Flashing Lights
by Icebabe59
Summary: In the cut-throat world of modeling it is hard to make it in front of the flashing lights. Somehow Molly has made it though, and can't help be caught up in the tall dark and handsome photographer that may or may not be interested in her as well.
1. Past and Present

**Disclaimer: I don't own the rights to BBC's Sherlock or Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's Sherlock Holmes or anything like that.**

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Molly Hooper grew up admiring the women on the covers of all the glossy magazines sold at the checkout isles of Tesco as well as those who were lucky enough to grace billboards and telly screens. As early as she could remember people always told her that she shouldn't think so highly of those women, that they were all unhealthy, changed by computers and would distort her body image. At the end of the day though these things only made her admire those women even more. To Molly these wonderful, beautiful women were so amazing because they worked hard, and kept modeling even though they probably knew what so many people said about them.

Because of this by twelve-years-old Molly was absolutely certain that she wanted nothing more than to become a model herself. When she told her father about this on night he certainly wasn't happy with the idea, but he supported her regardless. "You are growing to be your own person. I figure you are more that capable of making a decision or two for yourself." He said.

Molly's mother on the other hand took more time and energy to convert to the idea. "I will not have any daughter of mine, a young girl no less, prancing around a stage all done up like a woman." After a few weeks of hard work and some subliminal – though not altogether subtle – messaging from Molly though, Mrs. Hooper finally agreed that Molly could try her hand at the local beauty pageant. She was so excited when her mum finally agreed that Molly had spent the entire day practically bouncing off the walls of the family's house, and wondering what she might possibly wear.

The next few months were spent preparing for the pageant and Molly could not remember being happier. In her age group there were three sections for the competition that were scored and then added together to decide the winner. The three categories were formal dress, talent and swimsuit. Molly was pleasantly surprised that her mother was so enthralled with the shopping and the two girls had an easy time of finding the right costumes for the talent and swimsuit categories, but the formal dress proved a lot more difficult. Neither of the women could find a dress that they could agree on.

Then one night her father came home from work carrying a long and puffed out, white garment bag. He made a show of gathering the small family together before unveiling his present to Molly. The dress that he had carried in was beautiful and Molly fell in love with it immediately. The dress was pink and strapless. The skirt was made of bright pink tulle that fell to floor length in a wonderful amount of ruffles, with the bodice only a slightly darker shade of pink than the skirt, and covered in sequins that made the top sparkle and throw light in the most beautiful way.

Molly gasped and then ran to her father. Laughing he seemed to read her mind and carefully handed over the dress. Molly first held it up to her so that she could see it was the perfect length, and understanding past her excitement that this would mean fewer fittings if any. She would not even have to wear high heels to make the length just a little bit better, and this was a relief because Molly was always wobbly on those cursed things. Feeling the fabric she felt the almost sharp edges of the sequins that covered the top, and was careful not to cause enough pressure to either bend the plastic disks, or to hurt herself.

Molly's absolutely favorite part of the dress though was not the sequins on the bodice like most might have assumed, but the skirt. The fabric was slightly coarse, but when doubled up and then rubbed between Molly's thumb and first finger it made a noise unlike the sound that other fabrics made. Something about that difference from most formal fabrics made Molly happier than could be imagined.

With very little prompting Molly carefully gathered up the dress and took it to her bedroom before changing into it and hosting a sort of fashion show for her parents. In the back of her closet she found the shoebox that she knew held a pair of metallic silver leather shoes that she felt would match the dress. She had been correct in that assumption and the joy in her mother's face as Molly re-entered the family was enough to bolster her confidence, but it was nothing like the smile that was radiation from her father's face.

"You are beautiful Molls." Her father said, just before his voice was lost behind his wife's joy. Molly could not help but smile back at him and acknowledge wordlessly the pride that seemed to be almost imperceptibly threaded through his voice.

Then Molly was swallowed by the sound of her mother's voice. Much higher than her father's the soprano lilt seemed to fly across the room. "Oh, this is the perfect dress! The judges will love it! I love it! Why didn't we think of something like this before? Pink really is your color."

After a few more minutes of her mother flitting around and pulling at different sections of the skirt a camera seemed to materialize in her mother's hands, and the flash was nearly blinding as picture after picture was taken. Molly didn't mind though, and let her mind wander a bit as she felt her smile widen further than the Cheshire Cat's in one of her favorite movies.

OoOoOoOo

Many years after her first pageant Molly now found herself at thirty still in front of flashing cameras, and she still loved every minute of it. She had been given a chance that few models got and had been offered a photo spread and article about her in Glamour magazine. A dress much like the one that she had worn all of those years ago accentuated her frame now - even more than it had when she was younger - as she smiled, throwing up her arms as she gave a turn, laughing.

The photographer seemed to catch Molly's happiness, and encouraged it while the camera continued to click. Jokes flew between the pair and Molly laughed freely even at the worst of them. After what must have been half a million shots the camera stopped for a minute, and right on cue a side door to the studio opened and a young girl came bounding in happily, followed closely by a taller man.

"Mummy! We are princesses!" Shouted the little girl as she did a turn in the matching pink dress she had been dressed in.

"What a beautiful dress. You do look like a princess!" Molly laughed with her daughter and reached to pick up the girl who easily ran over to her. The enthusiasm of both girls caused the man still standing a few feet away to laugh softly. Distracted by the sound of her husband's laugh Molly looked away from her little girl and past the surprisingly bright softbox lights toward the silhouette that was unmistakably the man she loved. Even if he was only half visible past the blinding lights he had a distinctive figure that made him unlike any other man Molly had ever met.

The click of the camera brought her focus back to the photo shoot and she picked up her daughter as the shutter continued to open and shut at a rapid pace. At four years old Lilly understood better than many children her age how to follow directions, but getting her to pose when she was so excited about the rose quartz colored dress proved more difficult than both Molly and the photographer had expected. After only five minutes though everyone had settled into a pattern of sorts before the man of the family was added to the pictures, balancing out the dynamics in some ways, and helping to calm his daughter.

Immediately Molly could tell that Sherlock was much more comfortable behind the camera that in front of it, but he put on a good show as he wrapped his arm around her waist. They stayed in this pose, Lilly standing in front of them, for a few minutes before Molly understood that the shots were far too formal for the spread that was being done and that her husband seemed to need some incentive to relax.

Smiling Molly turned to Sherlock. "I am surprised that a man with your ego is camera shy." She teased. She couldn't help but poke fun at him for just a moment, putting him just a little more on edge before calming him down.

Turning so that the two were now facing each other with their daughter in between them Sherlock looked at her. "I am not camera shy." He protested, "I am simply unused to this dynamic."

Molly smiled and saw through her husband's bravado so instead of replying she leaned towards him until they were almost to the point of kissing, with him naturally leaning towards her as well. His hands went lightly to her waist, perhaps to keep her from pulling away, while Molly's hand furthest from the camera gently rested on Sherlock's jaw. The instant before their lips touched two things happened nearly simultaneously. The first was Lilly, apparently unsettled by her parents display of affection, hid her face while making a small sound of disgust, and turning back towards the camera. The second was the audibly sharp click of the camera shutter. Molly wasn't surprised three weeks later when she saw that particular picture printed full page at the beginning of the article.

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**Just a - hopefully - small authors note. Thank you all for reading, this is only the first chapter so there will be an update hopefully within a week or so. Also I would like to dedicate this chapter to Morbidmegz and Companiontomisterholmes. :) They helped me figure this all out while I set up the plot for this. Also I have Polyvore sets that go along with these stories. I will post the link on my profile.**


	2. Her First Gig

**Disclaimer: I don't own the rights to BBC's Sherlock or Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's Sherlock Holmes or anything like that.**

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When Molly was nineteen her father died. It was so hard on her that she had almost given up on the idea of modeling as a career, it would be much easier for her to stay home with her mum. She had shown enough proficiently at school for a medical career that it would be easy for her to return to school, but her father had been so supportive while she struggled to launch her modeling career that Molly couldn't let go of her dream.

So that is how Molly found herself, two months after her father's funeral, moving into a small flat in London. It was a studio style flat and really was just barely big enough for her, which was a pity considering a flat share would have been better for her budget. Despite that though it was perfect. The kitchenette was more than big enough for the basics and with the living room seamlessly flowing into the sleeping area everything just seemed open.

She had yet to secure any sort of job, and while that made Molly nervous, she also found herself excited for the adventure ahead of her. Mrs. Hooper on the other hand was much more hesitant about the idea of her only child moving into a flat alone and with no job security.

"Are you sure that you will be alright here? London is so dangerous. What if something happens to you?" The list of questions was longer than that, but Molly had started to tune out her mother's worries about an hour before and so after the second question she heard very little.

Molly absentmindedly laughed off her mother's worries, once the list of complains had been run completely through yet again. "I will be alright mum, promise. I have several meetings this week and I am certain that I will have my first job by the end of this month." It took another three hours for Molly to completely assure her mother that everything would be alright, but eventually Mrs. Hooper left Molly's flat with a final goodbye and tears in her eyes.

The first of Molly's interviews was the next day so Molly went to bed early and woke up feeling well rested and extremely nervous. The first interview admittedly didn't go well. The headhunters seemed to be surprised at Molly's height even though it was listed on the back of her comp card, plain as day. So she was turned down for being too short at the first meeting. The second meeting that week was even harder and Molly walked out near to tears. She had a day off of interviews after the second one though and while she was certainly upset by the fact that she had already been turned down twice Molly was careful to keep her head up.

In the long run though Molly was right, at her third interview that took place at the end of the month she was hired to attend a black tie event where her main job was to help promote a newly established jewelry maker. The rich and famous from all over the world would be attending the gala, a who's who event that would be attended by the newly rich American actresses and the long rich and titled of Great Britain and was the perfect place for up and coming jewelry designers to show off their best and most expensive pieces.

The designer who had hired Molly was only about a year older than her and was just as perky. Mary Morstan was one of the toughest people Molly had ever had the good fortune to meet, and she was also one of the most creative.

To Molly's luck Mary had insisted on meeting personally with every model being considered to show off the new jewelry line. This was advantageous for both girls because while Molly was certainly shorter than the average model – falling firmly in the petite category – Mary was looking at personality almost more than appearance and Molly was exactly what she was looking for.

And so Molly was pinching herself just to check when she found herself only two days after the meeting with Mary in a dressing room with several female models – all of whom seemed to be much more experienced that Molly – as hairdressers and make-up artists flitted from one of the dozen girls to the next. Everything that was happening in the room was elegant, as well as simplistic at the same time. Those who worked behind the scenes moved and stayed out of each other's way like it was some form of clockwork.

Molly's long brown hair was pulled up into a French twist so that it wouldn't block her ears or neck and the jewelry – that Molly had yet to see – would be easily visible. Her make-up was simple enough not to distract from the pieces by highlighted her eyes and made it very easy for her to think of herself as beautiful. Of course all models probably knew they were beautiful, but Molly certainly had no objections to the reminder of well-done make-up.

With only a half hour left until the gala was supposed to begin all of the models – Molly included – were starting to get nervous because the jewelry they were supposed to be showcasing had yet to arrive. Just before several of the models and managed to properly work themselves into full blown hysterics over it, Mary appeared in the doorway with a black container just larger, though somewhat shallower, than a shoebox in her arms.

"Miss me girls?" She asked as she smiled and shifted the box to her hip as she used her free hand to push back her short cropped blond hair that still seemed to always be falling into her face despite its length.

Molly chose to hang back while the other girls hurried around Mary to get their jewelry. A sea of black engulfed the designer momentarily in a way that seemed to almost come from a cartoon. All the girls had been outfitted in black cocktail dresses, generic and not particularly flashy, but very sleek. Molly tugged and smoothed at her dress and sat to put on the nearly too tall cobalt blue pumps that had been provided in her size.

It only took a few moments for Mary to extricate herself from the over excited mass of models, but Molly noticed that when she had managed the spectacular feat that Mary held a black velvet jewelry box, and had left the larger container behind.

"This one is yours." Mary announced passing the velvet to Molly.

"Yes, it has my name on it." Jokingly Molly pointed out the delicate lettering that showed her name, printed at the top of the box. After opening the box though Molly couldn't manage more than a soft gasp.

The necklace dominated a large section of the box with the pendent resting in the bottom center. The earrings rested in the center of the spread chain with a ring sitting right below them. All four pieces – the pendant, the two earrings and the ring – looked like new blue hot stars captured in a blue sapphire and diamond form. Oval cut cobalt blue sapphires served as the center piece and were accentuated by many small triangular cut diamonds that ringed the larger stones.

"I figured this one would suit you best, you are the palest of the girls – don't give me that look it is true – and so the silver metal and the blue stones should show well against your skin." Mary said after a moment of Molly's stunned silence.

"It is . . . they are perfect Mary, and while I would like to point out that I got a spray tan for this job, you are right. Help me put on the necklace?"

Mary smiled, nodded and helped Molly make quick work of the necklace clasp before walking back towards the other models to make sure that everything was sorted and ready as the slow minutes passed by before the gala doors opened.

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**Hello all! First off thank you very much for reading! I had hoped that this chapter would be longer, but oh well. If you like it please take a few seconds to let me know and I will try to have the next chapter up in about a week.**


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